


Collison Course

by theHunter_and_theNinja



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Daryl’s a Trauma Surgeon, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, M/M, Modern AU - No Walkers, descriptions of trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theHunter_and_theNinja/pseuds/theHunter_and_theNinja
Summary: Daryl is a trauma surgeon at the Virginia Hospital Center after earning a full-ride scholarship to Eastern Virginia Medical School. He takes care of trauma victims from victims of abuse to car wrecks. There’s no telling who will come through those emergency doors and need his assistance to survive.





	1. Collision

Twelve years ago, Daryl managed to earn a scholarship that gave him a full ride to Eastern Virginia Medical School. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity for him and didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. His brother, Merle, had been furious when he found out he’d accepted and was moving out of Georgia, hopefully for good. He had no good memories of living in Georgia thanks to his abusive home life and was happy to be rid of his old environment.

While there he experienced a liberation when it came to his social life that he had never thought possible. He’d kept his homosexuality a secret since he discovered it in middle school because he knew his father would’ve killed him and his brother would’ve probably helped hide his body had they known he liked men. It was wonderful to be able to be open about who he was and be accepted. Well, maybe not by everyone, but by everyone that mattered.

He’d made many friends during his time at college including Dr. Glenn Rhee, a child oncologist, and Carol Peletier, the head nurse at  _ Virginia Hospital Center _ where he’d interned. Now, it’s where he and Glenn both work. His closest friend, however, was Rick Grimes. He’d met Rick at a bar his first week in town when he didn’t have anyone in his life anymore having left everyone behind in Georgia. Rick had taken the initiative and struck up a conversation with him which lasted for many hours and drinks. They’d been fast friends ever since.

Daryl himself has become a highly respected trauma surgeon. He deals with the most urgent of cases such as car wrecks, gunshots, and the occasional emergency c-section should there be no obstetrician available. His main focus, however, is children who have been abused and are in need of immediate medical attention. He’s sewn up lacerations on their back and legs, set broken bones, and repaired burnt flesh. His most memorable case was when he pulled a bullet out of a 8-year-old’s chest after her father shot her upon finding out she wasn’t his daughter. He’d cried for hours after he was sure the girl, Sophia, was stable and was going to survive. A few more centimeters to the left and she’d have died instantly. He wasn’t, however, able to save her mother who’d been shot in the back twice, most likely from shielding Sophia from her father’s rage.

He made it his mission to ensure Sophia was placed in a safe home having noticed signs of years of physical abuse on her body. She had to stay at the hospital for over a month and everyone grew very attached to the sweet girl. So much so that when they found out she had no living relatives, Carol offered to take her in. She’s been Carol’s officially adopted daughter, Sophia Peletier, for over seven years now and is currently enjoying her freshman year of high school.

It was five years that he’d met his partner, Paul Rovia. Paul is a local artist with his own store and a part-time martial arts teacher at a local dojo that he co-owns with their mutual friend Rosita Espinosa. They met when Paul came into the ER with a couple cracked ribs and a broken wrist after getting jumped on his way home. The three guys that attacked him had been in much worse shape, but he hadn’t managed to escape the encounter unscathed. While it is a bit morbid, Daryl’s glad Paul got jumped and had to go to the hospital otherwise they may never have met.

They’d clicked instantly and Paul came back to the hospital a week later to ask him on a date. They went out to a nice restaurant and then to a movie and the rest is history. They’ve been living together for over a year now and even talking about the possibility of marriage and adoption. It was also through their relationship that Glenn met his now girlfriend Maggie Greene, Paul’s closest friend.

So, yeah, accepting that scholarship against his family’s wishes and moving out to Virginia to pursue his dream of being a surgeon was the best decision he’d ever made. His second best decision being accepting Paul’s offer to take him out to dinner.

* * *

“Morning Daryl!” Carol called from her desk as Daryl walked into the offices early Friday morning.

It was his last shift before he would get to spend the weekend in the mountains with his partner. They’d been planning the trip for a month and they were both excited to get away from their busy lives in the city and relax in nature. They’d rented a nice cabin deep into the woods and planned on hiking through the woods, roasting s’mores by the fire as stars twinkled above, going swimming in the private pond out back, and, of course, spending as much quality time together as possible.

“Morning” he called back, lifting his right hand in a slight wave.

No matter how long he’s lived in Virginia, he’s never been able to get rid of his deep southern accent. Carol smiled at him as he made his way over and set his motorcycle helmet down on her desk.

“I see you’ve finally found time to break out your motorcycle.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to be riding again now that winter is over.”

“I’ll bet. Paul practically drooled when he first saw you on that bike.”

Daryl blushed and busied himself with taking off his winged leather vest in exchange for his white lab coat.

Carol grinned, raising a suggestive eyebrow, “Looking forward to your  _ romantic getaway _ ?”

“Stop,” he said as his blush deepened, turning bright red.

“I’m just messing with ya.”

“Yeah, I know. Busy day today?” he offered in an attempt to change the subject before the red tint in his cheeks became permanent.

“Not really, the ER’s quiet and you’ve only got seven surgery follow-ups today.”

“Thought I had eight.”

“You did, but MIss. Reilly had to cancel. She moved her appoint to Monday.”

Daryl groaned, that woman was one of his more annoying patients. She was incapable of taking a hint about him not being interested and insisted on coming back in to see him despite her leg being completely healed. She’d had her leg crushed in a car crash and he’d managed to repair it to the point she could walk—albeit slowly, but she could walk. Now she was borderline obsessed with him and he was so over it.

“That woman needs to understand that it will be her last appointment with me. If she wants to come in again, find someone else to take her,” he told Carol.

She nodded and typed something onto the patient’s chart.

“Done,” she announced, “after Monday you’ll never see her again. Instead, if she wants to be checked again, she’ll be getting them from Dr. Ford.”

“Thanks. Maybe now she’ll finally take the hint.”

“We can only hope.”

He bid Carol goodbye and disappeared into his office to finish gathering everything he’d need for the day. He stuck his stethoscope into his front pocket and rearranged his clipboards in order of his appointments and waited. Every once in a while his pager would beep about need help in the ER and he’d respond and go help until his 1st patient was due to arrive.

* * *

It was noon before his first patient arrived. It was an elderly woman, Mrs. Lopez, who’d fallen down the stairs at her house and gotten a concussion. The fact that she was bleeding in her brain is what had put her in his section and not general surgery in the ER. He’d gone in and stopped the blood, now he just need to make sure he stopped all the blood and that there were no signs of leaking or infection.

“Good morning Mrs. Lopez. How are you feeling,” he asked, throwing her a smile as he walked into the exam room.

“Much better now, thanks to you.”

“Good,” his smile grew as he sat down across from her, “Any headaches?”

“Nope.”

“Dizziness”

“None that I can recall.”

He continued to list off possible signs of bleeding in the brain and she continued to deny experiencing any of them.

“Well then,” he said putting his clipboard away, “it sounds to me like everything is good again. Come back and see us should you ever experience any of those symptoms. It could be a sign the bleeding has restarted somewhere.”

“Thank you Dr. Dixon,” she said and shook his hand gratefully before departing.

* * *

Daryl continued his schedule of helping in the ER and meeting with his past patients for the rest of the day. The whole day had really been uneventful and for that, Daryl was glad. Because he, specifically, was called into action, it meant something really bad had happened. They send him a red alert on his pager and he’d drop what he’s doing and fly down to the ER. He did respond to normal requests for assistance should the doctors start getting swamped with unnecessary cases like helicopter parents and pathological liars, but that red alert meant serious trouble. While he loved his job, he prayed every morning that the red alert wouldn’t go off.

He was in his office getting ready to leave, his shift was over in 20 minutes, when his pager went off. Out of curiosity, he looked at it and it was a red alert. He dropped everything and grabbed his lab coat before sprinting out of his office.

“Carol! Call Paul and tell him I’ll be home late. There’s an emergency and the other trauma surgeon isn’t in yet,” he called as he raced by her desk on his way out of the office.

“On it!” she responded already picking up the phone to dial.

He burst into the ER, “what’s wrong?” he asked the nurse, Becky, in charge.

“Car crash. Only the child survived, he’s in room 12 being prepped to for surgery. He was sitting in the front seat. He’s got glass embedded into his skin and his arm was crush between the car door and the front panel. Emergency response had to cut him out.”

Daryl nodded and rushed off to scrub up, he could not lose this child, but Becky shouted for him to stop.

“What?” he asked, he needed to go.

“There’s something else you should know,” she said, her eyes falling as she did, “It’s Carl Grimes. It was Lori Walsh who died in the crash.”


	2. How to Save a Life

Daryl’s heart dropped into his stomach at the news. Laying in that room, minutes from death was his godson, the child of his best friend. As he ran to the room to get ready, he kept telling himself to breathe and focus. He couldn’t allow his emotions to take over and render him a useless ball of surgeon. He pulled on a set of sterile gloves with the help of one of the nurses and his surgeon’s gown.

He looked through the window in the door between the wash-up room and the surgery room where Carl laid ready for him as the nurse tied his surgical mask over his mouth and nose. The boy’s skin was pale and he could see where the glass was sticking out of his skin, his surgical team already attempting to remove some of the less serious pieces.

_ He’s going to carry these scar the rest of his life _ , the thought was sobering and made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Eventually Carl would probably joke about how they match now, but right now the situation was very far from funny. He wanted to strangle the idiot responsible for this, stick an arrow in his eye and watch him suffer.

He shook those thoughts away and let his training take over as he stepped into the room. He quietly made his way over to the table to assess the worst of the wounds and decide in which order to remove them. He focused on the piece embedded in his stomach first. It was about the size of his forearm once he’d pulled it all the way out and set to work cleaning and closing the wound. Right now it was just saving the kid’s life, more delicate surgery would have to come later after scans for internal bleeding and lacerations could be done. He prayed that the glass hadn’t nicked any major organs.

Carl was on the table for about two hours before he’d managed to remove all the glass safely and now he needed to repair his arm. It was badly bruised and scraped, but it hadn’t been bleeding as badly as the rest of his wounds so he’d left it for last. He carefully touched the arm to gauge how painful this was going to be for Carl and if he needed more anesthesia. Carl winced in his sleep, but only lightly so, Daryl decided it was safe to proceed.

With the help of his staff he slowly reset the arm, stitched up some of the larger lacerations and bandaged it. He’d need to be fitted for a temporary until the stitches were removed, but he was going to be okay. He’d probably have some scars on his arm for the rest of his life, but not as bad as the ones left on his chest from the glass. Honestly, he’d seen worse injuries from car crash victims, but seeing them on Carl is what made them worse than any he’d dealt with previously.

Once he was finished, one of the nurses, Tara, ushered him out of the room. She was a friend of him and Paul and knew how much Carl meant to him.

“Go wash up. Rick’s already here and is anxiously waiting to hear about his son. We’ve got it from here,” she spoke calmly, hand resting on his tense shoulder.

He nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment and left the room, pausing only once to look back at Carl as they fitted him with a temporary cast. He pushed the door open to the washroom and stripped off his bloody gloves and gown leaving him in just a light green pair of scrubs. He took care to wash his face and hands in the sink, briefly resting his upper body on top of it in an attempt to center himself. It was a ritual after every trauma surgery he performed. Taking a minute to come back to reality was important for someone who saw the things he did on a fairly regular basis. He especially need it today.

_ Fuck!  _ He slammed his fist against the sink. He could’ve lost his godson today and it would’ve been his fault. At least, in his eyes it would’ve been. Everyone else would blame the driver for his death, but Daryl knew he’d blame himself. He always did.

He blamed himself when the 40-year-old mother of two who passed away on his table after suffering a fall from a two story building caused by her abusive husband. He’d pushed her out the window when she told him she was divorcing him and taking their children with her. He blamed himself when an infant had died in his care after being in a car crash. He blamed himself when he was unable to save a 23-year-old woman who’d been shot outside her city apartment for being transgender.

He could feel tears sliding down his cheeks and dripping into the sink. It’s been over three hours now since Carl landed on his table. He needed to go out there and talk to Rick before the man went out of his mind. He wiped the tears off his face and stood up. He checked himself in the mirror one last time before exiting into the waiting room.

His eyes immediately found Rick, he was pacing a hole in the carpet in the back of the room. He was still dressed in his Sheriff’s uniform with the exception of his gun missing from his hip. His hat was sitting on a chair as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked frazzled and worried to the point of being ready to pass out.

Daryl carefully made his way over to him, not wanting to spook him by walking too slow or too fast. Rushing usually meant the family had to hurry to say goodbye and walking slowly usually meant the patient had already died. As a cop, Rick was very familiar with doctor behavior in terms of trauma victims. His movements caught Rick’s attention and he rushed over to him.

“Is Carl okay?!?” he breathed out, his voice shaky and raw.

“Yes.”

Rick promptly collapsed into the closest chair, his head falling into his hands and be began to weep in relief. Daryl bent down and helped Rick stand up, supporting most of his weight as he led him to a private room on the side of the waiting room. Daryl carefully maneuvered him into one of the chairs in the room and sat down next to him in the other.

“How bad is it?” Rick asked, wiping his eyes on his shirt.

“I removed multiple glass fragments from his chest and arms. The largest one from from right under his ribs. I’m having a scan done on him right now to check for internal bleeding and lacerations. I’ll know soon if I have to go back in.”

Rick nodded numbly, proving he was still listening.

“His arm was crushed on impact, but I managed to set it. He may never have full movement in his arm, but he’ll at least have most or some of it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Daryl replied sadly, pulling Rick into a hug.

“No, don’t you start that. You did everything you could,” Rick warned him, pulling back from the embrace.

Rick gaze was firm. He wanted Daryl to understand what happened wasn’t his fault and that he’d done everything he could.

“I’m just happy my son’s alive. Anything else we can deal with later. Right now I’m just glad he’s alive.”

“How bad was the wreck?”

“Really bad. Both cars are totaled.”

“Who’s fault was it? Please tell me it wasn’t Lori’s fault.”

“As far as we can tell, it wasn’t Lori’s fault. Witnesses claim the other car, a SUV driven by a white male in his late 50s, crossed over the middle line and hit them head on at full speed. Autopsy reports that she died on impact from blunt force trauma to the head. The entire back of her skull was cracked open, Daryl. It was horrific.”

Daryl grimaced, Lori wasn’t his favorite person, but she definitely didn’t deserve to die. What makes it worse is if they find out Carl was conscious for all of this. He’s only 10 years old, he’d been born 2 years after Daryl moved to Virginia for college. To watch his mother’s skull be split open right in front of him, especially at that age, will have more than a physical impact on him for the rest of his life.

“I know she’s my ex-wife and that she cheated on me with my best friend, but seeing her like that...”

Daryl didn’t have any words of comfort for his friend. He’d never been in Rick’s position. Just the ex thing, let alone the having to see them dead thing. Before Paul he had never dated or even been with anyone. 

“From the way their bodies were arranged in the car, we think that, once she realized she couldn’t get out of the way, she threw her body over Carl’s in an attempt to protect them. Because of that, she took the brunt of the hit while Carl remained relatively safe. Based on the impact pattern, had she stayed on her side of the car, she’d have lived and Carl would’ve died. She saved his life.”

Daryl nodded quietly as the tone in the room turned more somber. The one thing about Lori that Daryl has always respected, no matter how much he disliked her, was her love for Carl. Whatever he needed she was always ready to give to the best of her ability. She once drove four hours home alone from her vacation with her husband Shane to take care of Carl when he fell ill with the flu and ended up in the hospital. 

It had been one of the worst flu seasons the area had ever seen. Yeah, Rick was there the whole time, but she wanted to be there too, just in case he got worse. She spent the next week sleeping on a cot next to his hospital bed with Rick next to her on another one. It had been the most civil he’d ever seen her with Rick after their divorce.

A knock on the door startled them and Tara walked in.

“I have the scan results. There is internal bleeding. It looks like one of the pieces nicked a few of the larger veins. When do you want to do the surgery?” she reported, finger running across the clipboard.

“Is he stable enough to be operated on again today or should we wait? How are his vitals?” Daryl stood up and made his way over to Tara to look at the charts himself.

“His vitals appear stable enough, but I’m worried the stress of operating again could cause problems.”

Daryl nodded in thought as his eyes scanned the chart, “I agree, I think we need to wait until the morning when his body has had more time to recuperate before we open him up.”

“Which doctor would you like to assign the surgery to?”

“What? Why wouldn’t I do it?” Daryl gave Tara a look of confusion.

“Umm... because you’re off for the weekend. Remember?” she stared at him, her eyes conveying how worried she was for his state of mind.

“Oh right,” Daryl ran a hand through his hair, “Put me down for a surgery at 7 am tomorrow morning. I’ll call Paul and tell him we can’t leave until 10 am tomorrow. He’ll understand. I don’t want any other doctor touching my godson.”

“Yes, Doctor. I’ll let Carol the the surgical staff know.”

“Thank you,” he said as she left the room.

“Daryl, you don’t have to do that,” Rick started.

“Yes, I do. If I don’t do it, I’ll never be able to relax on my vacation and you know it.”

“Alright, 7 am it is. Can I see him now?” Rick stood.

“Yeah, they should have him set up in a room by now. Come on.”

The two left the room and paused briefly for Rick to retrieve the hat he’d left in the waiting room before approaching the nurse’s station and getting a location on Carl.

“Room 673,” the woman replied.

“Thanks,” Rick offered before speed walking to a nearby elevator.

Rick rapped his foot the entire ride up to the 6th floor. His arms crossed and his fingers drumming against them. Daryl just watched him out of the corner of his eye. This man, who he’d seen stare down the barrel of a gun without flinching, a jittering mess over his son who he’d already been assured was going to be alright. It showed how much his love and concern for his son overrode his normal calm persona. The amount of trauma the man sees on a day to day basis, just like Daryl, was astronomical; however, this case was way worse than any other case because it’s someone they both love dearly.

The elevator door opened and they stepped out into the hallway and quickly made their way to Carl’s room. Opening the door the first thing they noticed was how white he looked, especially surrounded by all white sheets, walls, and decor.

“ _ God, hospital rooms are so depressing _ ,” Daryl couldn’t help but think.

He always thought that upon entering a patient's room. He’s tried multiple times to get them to add just a little color, but the board of directors weren’t having it calling it a waste of valuable resources.

Carl was still unconscious, but the monotone ticking of the heart monitor told them he was just fine. There was an IV connected to his right arm, bandages covering his chest and arms, and a temporary cast covering his lower arm.

Rick sat down in one of the chairs next to his bed and, with tears streaming down his face, he took Carl’s non-injured hand into his own and said,  “I love you son. We’ll get through this together, I promise. Now please,  _ wake up. _ I need you.”


	3. In the Dark of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I don't know anything about human anatomy or surgical practices. Everything I know I saw in a TV show or read about online while trying to put this story together. So, suspension of disbelief might be necessary for anyone who knows more about this stuff than I do.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

After making sure Carl was stable and getting Rick a cot to sleep on next to his son, Daryl made his way back to his office to call Paul. He took off his white coat and hung it on the wall beside his desk for easy access. First, however, he called the nurses station to bring him up a cot. Carl’s surgery was at 7 am tomorrow morning and it was almost 9 pm already. There was really no point in heading home right now. Besides, he wanted to be available should Carl get worse at some point in the night. He didn’t trust the other trauma surgeon on staff, Dr. Spencer Monroe to be able to provide the best possible care. Spencer was an okay surgeon, but he tended to leave rather nasty scars behind on people when he performed surgery on them. Right now, the hospital is looking to replace Dr. Monroe behind his back but so far haven’t been able to find anyone better. The only promising one was a Dr. Denise Cloyd from Ohio, Tara’s girlfriend whom she met on vacation this past summer, who was looking to move closer to continue their relationship. God, he couldn’t wait for Spencer to be gone.

He pulled his phone out as he sat down behind his desk and called Paul.

“Hello,” came Paul sweet voice over the phone.

It sounded like heaven after the last few hours of hell.

“Hey babe, I have some bad news.”

“What is it? I know you got a late case...”

“It was Carl.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. “What do you mean it was Carl?” Paul asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“My late case was Carl. He and Lori were in a bad accident. Carl made it, Lori didn’t. I removed a lot of glass from his torso and restructure his arm, but there’s internal bleeding from where one of the pieces nicked a major vein. I have to go back in tomorrow morning at 7 am.”

“Oh my God. I’m coming over to stay with you,” Paul gasped and Daryl could hear the faint sound of a backpack or suitcase being unzipped.

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Because I know you. You’re not coming home tonight because the surgery is so early and because it’s Carl. You want to be there in case things go south since you don’t trust Spencer to do his best. I’m bringing you a change of clothes, toiletries, and some pajamas. Call the nurses station and tell them to get another cot set up in your office since I know you already ordered one for yourself.”

Daryl smiled fondly at Paul’s antics as he listened to him speak, “You know me so well. I promise we can leave after...”

“Fuck the vacation, we’ll reschedule.”

“But I promised to take you there for our anniversary...” Daryl started, but Paul cut him off.

“Fuck our anniversary plans, we have plenty of more anniversaries to come. Carl is more important. You and I both know you’ll never be able to relax while your godson is in the hospital and neither will I. I don’t care where we spend our vacation days, I only care that I spend them with you. And if that means sleeping on a cot in your office at the hospital all weekend, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“God I love you,” Daryl said smiling brightly into the receiver.

“I love you, too. See you in a bit,” Paul said before hanging up.

Daryl got up from his chair and went into the main room to talk to Carol after calling down for another cot to be brought to his office. He wasn’t sure if Carol was still here or if anyone had told her about Carl yet. His firsts question was answered immediately when he rounded the corner and saw her sitting there. She must’ve had to go get something from someone when he came back to his office earlier.

“Hey,” he called over to her as he approached her desk.

“Hi, I’m surprised you’re still here. Isn’t Paul waiting for you at home?” her confusion at his presence giving him the answer to his second question: nobody has told her about Carl.

“Actually, I won’t be going on vacation this weekend.”

Carol stopped typing and looked at him in shock, “What do you mean you’re not going? It’s your anniversary.”

“I know, but my last case has changed our priorities.”

Carol shifted back in her chair, “Why?”

“It was Carl.”

“What?!?” Carol’s mouth dropped open and her hand flew to cover her mouth.

“Yeah, he and Lori were in a really, really bad car crash. Had a lot of glass embedded in his torso and I had to reset his arm. He’s got internal bleeding, but I have to wait until morning to operate again. Paul’s coming over and we’re going to spend the night here. I want to be here in case something happens. We’re going to reschedule our vacation.”

“Oh my god, Daryl. I’m so sorry,” she stood up and walked around her desk to pull him into a warm hug, “where’s Rick? And what about Lori?”

_ Oh yeah, that. _

“Carol, Lori didn’t make it. She died on impact, shielding Carl with her body. Without her using her body as a human shield, Carl would’ve died.”

Carol pulled him close to her as she cried. He knew he was safe with her and let himself go as well. He cried for Carl and the scars he would have for the rest of his life, he cried for Lori who’d her life cut short, and for Rick who was now left to pick of the pieces.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Paul arrived and was greeted by the sight of Carol and Daryl sitting in some chairs drinking, what he assumed was, decaf coffee. Both of them had red rimmed eyes and looked utterly exhausted. Daryl immediately stood up and came over to him. He hugged him close and kissed him before releasing him. Paul walked over to Carol and gave her a warm hug as well.

“I know I can’t do much, but I brought some food from home, if you’re hungry. Figured it’s better than anything they serve here.”

“Fuck you’re amazing,” Daryl grinned at his boyfriend, “What did you bring us?”

Paul picked up one of the bags that he brought that Daryl now recognized as their mini, collapsible cooler. Inside was some leftover potato soup, a few sandwiches, and some hummus with cut vegetables. Daryl kissed his husband again before reaching for the hummus and veggies and settling back into his chair. Paul noticed there weren’t any more chairs so he walked over to Daryl and proceeded to sit on his lap with both of his legs hanging off of Daryl’s left side. Had they been alone, he’d have just straddled him like he does at home.

Carol, unfazed by Paul’s actions having grown used to the two’s affectionate ways towards each other in the company of only friends, she grabbed one of the sandwiches and sat down across from them.

“How are you, Paul?” she asked tearing away the paper covering the sandwich.

“I’m fine, all things considered,” Paul said, taking a bite of hummus covered celery.

“I’m sorry we had to cancel our...” Daryl started apologizing again before being cut off by Paul shoving a baby tomato covered in hummus into his mouth.

“Stop blaming yourself, please. None of this is your fault, babe. There will be other weekends when your godson isn’t in the hospital.”

Daryl nodded his understanding and turned back to his snack.

They sat and chatted for a bit while enjoying the food Paul had brought with him. Carol went home around 10 pm, the same time Daryl and Paul decided it was time for them to turn in. The cots had been delivered and set up a while ago and Daryl wanted to get to bed so that he was ready to go in the morning. They shut the door to his office and pulled the blinds, but they didn’t lock the door so that a nurse could wake him up should he be needed. They pushed the cots together and laid down for the night. While Paul changed into his pajamas, Daryl simply changed into the fresh set of work clothes just in case he had to fly out of the room at some point tonight.

_ “Please let Carl make it until morning,” _ Paul prayed before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

It was at 3 am when they were jolted awake by a loud pounding on the door of their makeshift room. Daryl jumped out of bed to get to the door. He threw the door opened and there stood one of the nurses, Susan.

“Dr. Dixon, it’s Carl. He woke up about half an hour ago and it seemed he was fine, but he started throwing up and he just had seizure. We need you now,” she relayed to him quickly.

“Where is he?”

“He’s being taken to down to get a CT scan to check for bleeding in his brain. I know we didn’t see any signs of head trauma, it’s possible it was hidden by his hair if he hit the back of his head instead.”

“Right, who ordered the CT scan?”

“Dr. Ford did, doctor.”

“Perfect, I’m on my way down now. I just have to put my shoes and coat on.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there.”

Daryl turned around and began pulling his shoes on in a hurry. Paul got up and got his coat from the hook and held it up for him to slip into. Daryl gave Paul a quick kiss on the lips before sprinting from the room. Daryl only slightly slowed his pace when he came across other people on his way down to the lab, but he was more concerned about Carl than about hospital protocol. He practically skidded into the CT scan room just in time to see his godson’s head disappearing inside the giant machine. Ignoring whoever else was there he turned to look at the monitor. He wasn’t out of breath from the trip down--he’s run much longer and farther than that for fun--but, he couldn’t breathe because there on the screen was a clear image of brain trauma; Carl wasn’t just bleeding in his chest, he was also bleeding in his brain. This surgery just got a whole lot more urgent and dangerous. He needed to go back in right now to stop the bleeding or Carl wasn’t going to make it.

Daryl turned to his current team, “I need one of you to call Dr. Ford and relay this information to his father: Carl is bleeding in his brain as well as his chest and that I have to perform the surgery right now or he’s not going to make it to morning. Make sure that Dr. Ford ensures Mr. Grimes understands the risks of this procedure. The rest of you, get him and yourselves prepped for surgery.”

“Yes, doctor,” they all replied in unison.

One of the nurses broke away from the group to go call Dr. Ford while everyone else started the process for surgery. Daryl went into the washroom and started to serialize himself after pulling on some scrubs. This was going to be a long surgery and an ever longer night for Rick who was about to receive some awful news. Brain surgery was always dangerous, really any kind of surgery was, but brain surgery on a kid his age who just endured that kind of trauma is especially dangerous.

* * *

Carl ended up spend almost another three hours on his table as Daryl treated both the bleeding in his brain and the bleeding in his chest. Afterwards, he made them do another CT scan just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything and, to his relief, the scans came back negative. To the best of his knowledge, Carl was out of the woods for now. Paul found him afterwards hunched over in the waiting room with his head in his hands. He hadn’t even been able to find the energy to make it to an elevator once his adrenaline had worn off. Paul helped him stand up and walk to an elevator and finally back to his office. It was almost 6 am by now, the time Carl was supposed to have gone into surgery for minor bleeding in his chest.

The surgery had been very stressful, but Daryl was thankful he hadn’t needed to shave Carl’s head to get at the injury. His patients are always devastated if they wake up with no hair after suffering brain trauma. Because not only did they sustain very serious injuries, they’d lost a piece of themselves too. Without warning, Daryl slammed his foot against his desk out of frustration, startling Paul.

“Babe, what is it?” Paul asked sitting up from his cot to look at Daryl.

“I should’ve checked for it. I should’ve...” Daryl whispered, seemingly to himself, as his nervous habit of chewing on the side of his thumb came into play, “Bleeding in his brain and I didn’t even think to order a scan for it, Dr. Ford did. God, I was am so fucking  _ stupid!” _

Sensing Daryl’s downward spiral of self-loathing, Paul reached out an pulled Daryl’s thumb out of his mouth. The action caused Daryl’s attention to shift off of beating himself up about it to him.

“Nobody would’ve guessed he suffered brain trauma, there were no physical signs of it. You told me yourself that his head looked fine.”

“Yeah, it _ looked _ fine. I still should’ve had a scan done.”

Paul sighed at the state of his husband’s thinking. Paul hated that his first instinct was to beat himself up when something goes wrong, especially when it’s not his fault. His husband cares so damn much about everyone that it sometimes causes him to hurt himself, just like he’s doing right now.

“But everything is fine now. Carl’s out of the woods thanks to you...”

Daryl cut him off, “You don’t understand. If Dr. Ford hadn’t have caught my mistake, Carl could’ve died by the time 7 am came. Hell, he could’ve died even after that because I wasn’t going in to deal with bleeding in his brain, just his chest.”

“Babe...”   
“No!” Daryl’s voice started to rise in volume, but Paul knew it wasn’t because he was angry at him, “My godson could’ve died tonight because I was stupid enough to not do a fucking CT scan on his brain to check for head trauma.”

Paul didn’t have any words of comfort for him because, it’s true, he doesn’t know anything about human anatomy outside the basic stuff. Instead, Paul just opted for pulling his distraught husband into a warm embrace and holding him close. Daryl wrapped his arms around his husband’s torso and let himself feel everything he’d been trying to hold back. He could feel Paul’s shirt getting wet from his tears, but all he did was run his fingers through his hair to comfort him.

His crying subsided after a while and Daryl pulled back from the embrace just enough to see Paul’s face, “What would I do without you?”   
Paul smiled knowing the worst was over with, “I love you Dr. Dixon.”

“Love you too, Paul.”

“Come on, I know neither of us are going to get anymore sleep. Let’s go visit Carl and Rick,” Paul said getting to his feet.

Daryl half-smiled and followed suit, anxious to see his brother and godson again.


	4. Recovery

Daryl lightly knocked on the door of Carl’s room. It’s around 7 am, but Daryl figured Rick wouldn’t be sleep. No, he’d be up and watching over his son like a guardian. The door opened to reveal an exhausted Rick in just a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Someone must’ve brought him a change of clothes at some point last night.

“How is he?” Daryl asked.

“Good as far as I can tell. He hasn’t woken up from the surgery yet, but no more seizures or vomiting.”

“That’s good,” Daryl nodded feeling guilty all over again for not catching the brain trauma, “Rick, I’m so sorry that I didn’t...”

“I’m going to stop you there, brother. It’s not your fault. Nobody noticed until he woke up and started vomiting and having seizures.”

Daryl hung his head, his friends words doing very little to comfort him as he looked at Carl lying in the hospital bed. He was hooked up to a monitor keeping track of his vitals and has an IV in his arm. He remembers just a couple days ago how Carl had been laughing along with him and Paul at their house while Rick and Michonne went out on a date. He’d been so alive then, but now, covered in wires and fast asleep in a bland hospital bed he looked too pale in Daryl’s eyes. Where was his mischievous smile and dancing eyes?

“How are you holding up?” Paul asked Rick, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I could be better. Lori’s funeral has been scheduled for next weekend, but they’ll push it later if Carl isn’t well enough to go.”

Daryl looked at his friend, “As long as there are no more complications he should be ready to go home by then. He’ll still need lots of physical and mental therapy, but he’ll at least be able to sleep in his own bed.”

“That’s good. Being stuck in the hospital for long periods of time is depressing, no offense,” Rick breathed a sigh of relief for his son.

“No worries. It is depressing being in a hospital. Usually the only non-depressing, or least depressing, units in the entire hospital are the maternity and outpatient wards.”

“Agreed.”

Paul made his way over to Carl’s bedside and sat down in the chair next to his head. He reached out and placed his hand over Carl’s rubbing his fingers across the back of the boy’s hand. It was something Paul often did for him when he was upset or in pain. It was a very simple gesture, but it’s calming effect on him was huge. Many times it’s saved homophobes or just simply rude people at the bars they go out to from getting punched in the jaw by him.

“Where’s Michonne? I figured she’d be here by now,” Daryl said noticing Michonne’s absence for the first time.

“She’s here. She came last night after Carl was out of surgery. She had to run home and pack some clothes before coming. You missed her by all of ten minutes.”

“Where is she now?”

“Uh... she’s here.”

Daryl quirked his eyebrow at Rick, he was hiding something from him, “What are you trying to hide?”

“What do you mean?”

“Rick, you suck ass at lying. Where is she?”

“Well, we wanted to tell you and Paul together, but...,” Rick glanced behind him and then smiled brightly, “oh look! There she is.”

_ Saved by the goddamn bell, _ Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Good morning Daryl,” she said reaching her arms out to embrace him.

“Hi, I was just asking Rick where you’d disappeared off to.”

“Oh, I just went to get some water at the fountain down the hall.”

Daryl could tell she was lying, but he didn’t push it.

“Thank you,” she continued, “for everything you did for him. I can’t even image the amount of stress you were under.”

“I just wish I’d caught everything sooner. Maybe he’d be awake by now if I had.”

“He’s safe now and that’s all that matters to me,” she said pulling him into a hug.

A quiet cough behind them pulled Daryl’s attention back to the others in the room only to see Carl slowly blinking himself awake. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his surrounds and they all waited for a few seconds for the boy to get his bearings. His eyes slowly scanned each of them in turn before settling on his father.

“Dad, why am I in the hospital?” he asked.

Daryl’s heart fell into his stomach at the question. Carl has repressed his memories of the accident which was not a good sign as far as his mental health goes. Maybe Rick would be able to get him to remember. Paul stood up and let Rick take his place next to Carl.

“You were in a really bad car accident. Do you remember that?” Rick said sitting down and taking his son’s hand.

“No. Well, all I remember is Mom slamming on the breaks and yelling something. After that, I don’t remember anything. Where is Mom?”

Rick looked over his shoulder at Michonne, “Could everyone give us a minute? Except you Michonne, please stay.”

Michonne nodded and walked over to sit on Carl’s bed while Daryl and Paul left the room and closed the door. This was something Rick and Michonne needed to do on their own. While Daryl and Paul both loved Carl very much and were very close with him, they weren’t his parents. Paul laid his head on Daryl shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist as they waited for Rick and Michonne to be done. All they could hear was some muffled crying as Rick told Carl the horrible news.

At the sound of heavy footprints Daryl looked up from the floor to see Dr. Spencer Monroe heading their way.

“How’s the patient Dixon?” the other man smirked.

Daryl hates Spencer more than he’s hated anyone in entire life besides maybe his abusive father. The man became a doctor solely for the money and didn’t one bit about his patients. He also only took on cases he was sure he could fix not wanting to soil his record too much. Daryl, on the other hand, took any case that walked through the door no matter how hopeless the case. Because of this is record was much lower than Spencer’s, but he was also widely considered a better surgeon than Spencer.

“Fuck off, Spencer,” Daryl bit back since there was nobody else around.

“Whoa! Just because you messed up and almost killed your godson doesn’t mean you can act like a complete bitch.”

Daryl went to walk forward, but Paul grabbed his hand effectively stopping his approach. If he punched Spencer, now matter how valid the reason, Daryl could lose his job and his license.

“That’s right, let your little boyfriend stop you from being a real man,” Spencer teased noticing Paul holding Daryl back.

“Get lost, Spencer,” Paul growled from Daryl’s side.

“Stay out of this, Rovia. This is between me and him. Although, it’s not your fault your boyfriend’s an incompetent surgeon.”

“I’m a better surgeon than you will ever be,” Daryl cut in.

“Not according to your record. You’ve got what, a 70 percent success rate? My success rate is 95 percent which makes me a better surgeon than you.”

“Only on paper. Your record’s only that good because you refuse to accept any case you see as impossible. You condemn people to death while they’re still breathing.”

“And you fumble around with people who don’t have a chance at the cost of your own reputation. If you keep taking on every case that comes through that ER door, soon enough your record is going to plummet. You won’t keep getting lucky forever, Dixon.”

“So what if my record’s worse than yours? The number of people that die in the ER when I’m on duty is more than 65 percent lower than when you’re on duty,” Daryl shot back, “I care about people. I save lives. You’re just in this business for the money.”

Spencer shrugged nonchalantly, the man obviously didn’t give a shit about his patients.

“When we’re both on duty, I’ve taken on cases and saved people who you’d already declared dead. The one thing people need to be good at this job is a passion for helping people. You’ll never be better than me, Spencer, because you don’t have a heart.”

Spencer just rolled his eyes at him.

“Try not to kill him this time, yeah?” Spencer said, his smirk still plastered across his face, before walking off.

“I can’t wait until that asshole’s gone,” Daryl groaned leaning back against the door next to Carl’s room.

He wanted to punch that bastard so bad, but he wanted to keep his job more.

“Who told him about Carl’s condition?” Paul asked.

“He probably overheard it at one of the bi-hourly floor meetings where they discuss patients and treatments. They’re supposed to help us get patients out of the hospital faster, but they also result in everyone being in everyone else’s business.”

“I’m sorry, that’s awful.”

Daryl pulled his husband close with one arm, “Yeah, but it benefits the patients. Since we implemented it our bed turnover rate is much higher which means we’re saving individual patients money while the hospital is still able to support itself.”

Unlike most hospitals in Virginia, this one is a nonprofit organization dedicated to actually helping people and not benefiting from their suffering. Helping people who are too poor to afford good medical care otherwise is basically their motto. It always puzzled him why they hired Spencer when he’s a walking contradiction of that motto. Only later did he find out that the only reason they gave him the job was to appease his mother, the Mayor. She is retiring in a few months, however, which means the hospital no longer has to employ her son in order to ensure they get their money from the state on time and in full. Money that helps keep the doors of this hospital open.

The door to Carl’s room slowly opened to reveal Michonne with bloodshot eyes and fresh tear tracks on her face. Paul quickly pulled her into a hug. He knew Michonne harbored no feelings of goodwill for Lori, but seeing her step-son in so much pain still hurt her. Daryl stepped around the pair and made his way over to Rick and Carl. Carl was still crying as his father held him against his chest on the bed.

“Hey kid, how’s your head feel?” Daryl asked sitting down slowly onto the end of the bed.

He wasn’t about to ask “how are you?” because obviously the kid was beyond distraught.

“The back of my head’s sore and I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“Yeah, that’s to be expected. I need you to tell me immediately if the headache starts to get any worse, okay?”

Carl nodded, “Is my arm going to be okay? I just signed up to play soccer at school.”

“Well, you’re going to have that cast for a while. It was a pretty nasty break. But, with physical therapy you should gain most if not all of the moment in it back. However, your other injuries need to heal too. When does the season start?”

“It doesn’t start for another two months. It’s an indoor soccer team,” he looked up at Daryl hopefully.

“It depends on how much pain you’re in and how quickly your bones and body start to heal. But as long as you promise not to stop the ball using your arm or your head, you should be fine to play. You just can’t be the goalie.”

Carl smiled, “Good! Cause Ben and I are going to be unstoppable on the field.”

“I’m sure you’ll be an awesome soccer player, but no practice for at least a month and a half though. You’ve got to let your head and chest mend some more. And if you start to feel dizzy, you’ll need to ask to come out immediately, understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Daryl.”

“Good, now how about a hug?” Daryl leaned forward to give his godson a hug while still being mindful of the wires he was hooked up to.

A nurse knocked on the ajar door and entered carrying some jello, water, and a pudding cup. Usually patients are asked which one they want at each meal, but children are usually given both. Especially children who’d just made it through some huge trauma. It helped to raise their spirits after such a hard time.

“Look Dad, he brought me jello,” Carl said smiling as the nurse placed the tray on the small table next to him that swings over his bed.

“Yes, now what do you say?” Rick prompted.

“Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was my pleasure,” the nurse responded before exiting the room.

Rick cleared his throat from across the room forcing everyone’s attention to him. Michonne was standing next to him looking slightly nervous.

“Michonne and I have decided that in light of what’s just happened that we could all use a little good news. We were planning on revealing this at dinner on Friday, but since that’s no longer going to be happening, we’ve decided to tell all of you now.”

Daryl cocked his eyebrow at his brother’s sudden announcement. However, he was starting to guess exactly what it was considering Michonne’s earlier absence and Rick’s poor attempt at lying. Actually, he’d bet his medical license on what he thought the news was.

“I’m pregnant!” Michonne smiled even though her eyes conveyed worry.

Daryl could tell she was worried about revealing it now at such a sad time, but some good news is just what the doctor ordered.

“Congratulations!” Daryl and Paul cheered.

“You hear that Carl? You’re going to be a big brother again,” Daryl prompted.

So far the kid’s only reaction was for his jaw to drop as he stared at his step mom.

“Really?!?” Carl asked sitting up in his bed.

Michonne nodded again.

“Yes! I love being a big brother,” Carl cheered practically vibrating with excitement.

He could see Michonne visibly relax at Carl’s enthusiasm.

“How far along are you?” Paul asked.

“Nine weeks,” she responded blushing.

_ Ah, anniversary baby then,  _ Daryl realized going back in his head nine weeks. That was their anniversary week and they’d taken a romantic trip up to Cape Cod. Daryl smirked as he looked at Rick who turned beet red and mouthed “shut up” at him.

The news had sparked new life into Carl, an affect no pudding cup or serving of jello was going to be able to do.

“Is the baby healthy? Boy or Girl? Do you have a picture? Can I feel the baby yet if I touch your tummy?”

Carl’s questions went on and on and nobody seemed to care. They were just happy Carl was happy. Paul came over and sat down next to him on the bed as Carl kept talking away. Paul kissed on the lips briefly before turning back to Carl’s onslaught of questions, a fond smile alight on his lips.

_ Yes, just what the doctor ordered,  _ Daryl thought as he pulled his partner close and listened to his godson ask him, Michonne and Rick about fifty million questions about the coming addition to the Grimes family; his busted up arm, chest, and head long forgotten in his excitement.


	5. Funeral March

It was now Friday, an entire week had passed since the accident and the day of Lori’s funeral. Carl was released from the hospital on Wednesday, but had yet to return to school on Daryl’s orders. He explained that Carl’s brain still needed to recover and going to school could place unnecessary stress on it and prevent the healing process. He also did if for Carl’s mental health, a child still reeling from the loss of his mother shouldn’t have to sit in school for six hours a day. He should be at home curled up on the couch with his Dad watching movies and eating popcorn. Rick took the week off of work to be with Carl and Daryl and Paul were there as much as possible.

For someone who’d just suffered major trauma, he was actually doing quite well, at least physically. Carl was still repressing his memory of the crash and his mother’s death. They knew this because every night he’d wake up screaming and crying out for Lori, but once he woke up he couldn’t recall exactly why he’d been yelling. His mind couldn’t process what had happened, so it was repressing it and only when he was unconscious could his subconscious bubble to the surface and allow him to remember Lori’s death.

He’d met with a child psychologist at the hospital, but she explained that this behavior was normal and it would take a long time for him to work through. She warned that he may never consciously remember his mother’s death. His first appointment with a psychological counselor was on Monday with Dr. Rosita Espinosa. Daryl had referred patients to her before and she was a personal friend as well. He trusted her to do her best at helping Carl heal, but also not trying to push his recovery faster than he could handle.

Daryl adjusted his tie in the mirror while Paul pulled his nice black dress shoes on behind him. They were heading over to Rick’s house to pick up him, Michonne, and Carl before heading over to Lori’s funeral. While they understood why they’d been invited, Daryl was not looking forward to seeing Shane again. To this day, he couldn’t explain or understand Lori’s attraction to him. The man was a complete asshole, but Daryl knew he’d have to keep his opinions to himself today. Even through he hated the guy, he’d still lost his wife and the mother of his two year old daughter, Judith, today. How two people so selfish had created a child so sweet was beyond him.

“Ready to go?” Paul asked slipping his arms around Daryl’s waist and leaning against his back.

“Yeah,” Daryl turned around to kiss his partner who was smiling softly up at him.

The made their way out to their car and pulled out of the driveway. Daryl’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he waited at a redlight.

“What do you think is going to happen to Judith now that Lori’s gone?” Paul asked suddenly out of the blue.

“What?” Daryl looked at him, his confusion at the question obvious on his face.

“Well, Shane is part of the US Army and spends weeks and months away from home. Both he and Lori don’t have any extended family save for Rick and Carl. Do you think Shane will let Rick and Michonne take her?”

Daryl hadn’t thought about it. It was true, Shane was supposed to ship out again in a month for a seven month long tour in Afghanistan.

“I don’t think he’d like that arrangement. Maybe he’ll quit the army and get a job locally so that he can be here for his daughter,” Daryl shrugged.

“Maybe, but all I’ve ever heard that man talk about is becoming a general in the army. I’m not sure he’s got it in him to give up that dream when he’s so close to accomplishing it. He’s already been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.”

Daryl sighed, “I don’t know, Paul. I would hope that he sees raising his daughter as a higher priority than climbing the army rank ladder, but I honestly don’t know.”

Paul nodded sadly. Shane is definitely not his favorite person because of what he did to Rick, but he still held out hope that the man wasn’t a total ass. He seemed to love his daughter, it was his commitment to raising her without the support of Lori that he was worried about. Shane is definitely more traditional when it comes to gender roles. He’d never openly condemned his and Daryl’s relationship, but you didn’t exactly need a spyglass to see he didn’t approve of it.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the Grimes’ house. Daryl honked the horn a couple to let them know they were here. The door opened and out they came. Rick and Carl were both wearing all black suits and Michonne was wearing a long black dress that came down to her ankles. Nobody was smiling as they climbed into the back of their car and left for the church.

It was a long and quiet ride to the church. Carl looked on the verge of tears already and Rick was seemingly staring at nothing. The mood was somber as they went to bury Carl’s mother.

Daryl pulled into the parking lot of the church where the ceremony was to be held. After the ceremony, Shane decided only her closet family was permitted to go to the graveside, so only Rick, Carl, Shane, and Judith would be going. They were going to wait here for Rick and Carl to come back so that they could take the Grimes family back home. Carl took his father’s hand and let Rick lead him up the steps of the church. The rest of them followed behind silently.

Rick and Carl left their sides to go join Shane and Judith in the receiving line. It was a closed casket with just a picture of Lori set up above the casket. Shane decided on a closed casket the second he saw what the accident had done to her. Her face was deformed from the back of her head splitting open on impact. Beautiful red and white roses decorated the top of the casket. Spread out on a couple billboards placed after her casket were pictures of Lori with Her family. They were mainly of her with Carl and Judith, but there were some of her and Shane, too. There were none of her and Rick and Daryl assumes Shane had done that on purpose.

Daryl watched as Rick politely greeted Shane and gave him his condolences. Shane did the same, but he was much less polite about it. He never did like being reminded that Lori had once been married to Rick. Carl hugged Shane and then kissed Judith on her forehead. Daryl could hear Judith, dressed in a black dress with white accents, keep asking for her mom, pointing at her picture. Daryl’s heart broke for the child who was too young to understand why Lori wasn’t coming for her.

Soon enough other guests started to arrive. Distant relatives and friends coming to say goodbye to Lori. Some of them Daryl recognized, but many he didn’t. He noticed Maggie, Glenn, Carol, and Sophia walk in and get in line to give their condos to the grieving family. He, Paul, and Michonne jumped in line behind them. They’d been waiting to go up with other people they knew not wanting to encounter Shane alone.

“How are Rick and Carl holding up?” Maggie asked as soon as they walked over.

“Rick seems to have completely numb and Carl’s still suffering from nightmares,” Michonne answered.

Maggie places a comforting hand on her shoulder. Even though Michonne hasn’t known Lori all that well, she was still suffering from the impact Lori’s death, and the crash in general, has had on her family. Daryl quietly updates them on Carl’s physical condition as they waited their turn.

Paul went first, shaking each of their hands and offering words of comfort. Then Daryl, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Carol, and finally, Sophia who pulled Carl into a tight hug.

Carl’s eyes were bright red from crying. Shane’s face had showed no emotion at all. He just curtly nodded at them and moved on. He was clearly not happy they were there. If he’d had his way no one from Rick’s side of people who knew Lori would be here including Rick. He was fine with Carl’s presence, but the tension between him and Rick was suffocating.

Once all the guests had arrived and gone through the reception line, Shane gave a short eulogy followed by Rick. A priest came out and performed a beautiful ceremony that reminded everyone of Lori’s more positive traits. The whole thing lasted maybe an hour and before they knew it people were leaving. Some of the men Shane had invited along helped him and Rick carry Lori’s casket out to her grave site before leaving.

Now it was just Daryl, Paul and Michonne left in the church. Daryl walked up to one of the boards covered in pictures and ran his hand over a particularly nice one. It was of Lori and Carl at the beach when Carl was only three. Carl was laughing at something and Lori was beaming as she looked at her son. He remembered when this picture was taken. It was Rick and Lori’s last vacation as a couple and him and Paul had been invited to join them. They’d gone to Cape Cod that year and spent many days lying on the beach, whale watching, and eating delicious seafood.

Daryl smiled sadly as he looked over the rest of the board littered with even more adorable pictures. He felt someone come up beside him. He turned to them and was greeted by Paul who pulled him in for a brief kiss. Daryl pulled Paul to his side, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I just wish I’d had a chance to save her, too,” Daryl sighed.

“I know, babe,” Paul whispered rubbing his hands across Daryl’s back, “You always wish you could save everyone. It’s who you are.”

Daryl nodded, he did always wish he could save everyone who came through the ER doors regardless of why they were there. When someone comes into the ER with trauma, in his mind, it suddenly doesn’t matter how much of an asshole the person is, he wants to save them. Even if, sometimes, only so that they can show up in court and answer for their crimes. Lori definitely wasn’t the nicest person in the world, but she didn’t deserve what happened to her.

It wasn’t long before Rick and Carl were making their way back over to them from the grave site. Fresh tears were rolling down Carl’s cheeks and Rick still looked numb to the world. Silently Daryl embraces his brother, holding him close until Rick started to pull away. Michonne softly kissed him on the cheek and hugged and kissed Carl as well. Solemnly they all made their way out to the car and left the church saying goodbye to Lori, Carl’s mother, for the final time.


End file.
